Dear Bacon,
Perhaps we were a bit too hasty before when we said we were through with you. When we saw you last night at Employees Only in the West Village wrapped around that tiny New Zealand lamb chop, well, we have to admit, our blood got up a bit. We didn't know you could do that. We thought you were becoming a post frat party lampoon of yourself, fit only for Super Bowl Sunday and chili cook-offs.
But then when our eyes fell upon you, entwined with that diminutive lamb chop ... well, bacon, hope springs eternal. We thought back to the good times, back to that brief reconciliation when you returned to the Rusty Knot gracing chicken liver and a baguette, dressed only in a bit of arugula. So, bacon, we are thinking about you again. Just wanted to let you know.
P.S. But to be honest, we were also eyeing the bone marrow poppers at Employees Only all night.
